


étoiles et fleurs

by matteo-shreibner (alimacbrux)



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Language of Flowers, M/M, Other, Slow Burn, more tags to add later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22378525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alimacbrux/pseuds/matteo-shreibner
Summary: Lucas is next in line for the throne, about to be engaged to marry a young noble woman and he hates it. That is, until he runs into the curious florist, Eliott, on a walk through the city. Lucas has little choices in life, but will one of them be Eliott?
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant, Eliott Demaury/Lucille (SKAM France), Lucas Lallemant/Chloé (SKAM France)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so this is my royalty/flower shop AU that again, nobody asked for. I hope you guys like it! :D

Lucas hushed the other boy as his back hit the stone wall, a laugh tumbling out of the boy's pale pink lips. He ignored Lucas in favour of pressing him harder into the wall, kissing him hard on the lips. Stunned, Lucas kept his eyes wide open but kissed the other boy back fervently. His heart hammered inside his chest, sending blood rushing through his head until it was almost spinning. A muffled groan erupted from his throat as the boy's mouth moved from his lips to his throat, sucking a bruise into his pale skin.

"No marks!" Lucas blurted, coming to his senses and pushing the boy's face away from his neck. He stumbled back, eyebrows furrowed as he frowned at Lucas in confusion and protest. "For fucks sake, you idiot, it's illegal," he countered, rolling his eyes. 

"So? Would it not be worth it?" he replied, arching a seductive eyebrow. His fingers were idly fumbling around, finding his hips like they fit. He leaned in, mouth barely a centimetre from Lucas' ear as he whispered, "Would _I_ not be worth it?" 

Lucas huffed, rolling his eyes out of sight of the other boy. "I won't lie to you. It probably wouldn't be worth hanging for you," he remarked, allowing the other's hands to wander further south. "Which is why—" he lifted the other boy's chin to face him abruptly, "— _no marks_ can be left. Got it?" 

"Whatever you say _your highness._ " Lucas scoffed, slapping his chest. 

"You know I hate being called that E—" Lucas began to complain before halting as a palm pressed into his crotch. "Fuck." 

This continued for another few minutes, both boys kissing and grinding against the stone wall, only the faint glow of the lanterns along the corridor lighting them. Lucas was starting to get into it, kissing back with ease, barely aware of his grubby surroundings. 

That is, until he heard footsteps followed shortly by a cleared throat. "Shit," Lucas groaned, shoving the other boy off of him and turning towards the sound. "Oh come on, Manon. _Really?_ " he whined, scowling at the girl standing in the glow of the lanterns. 

_"Really,_ Lucas?" Manon mocked, aiming a curious and slightly disapproving glance at the disheveled looking Edward who was leaning against the opposite wall. She waved a half-hearted hand towards Edward who promptly slid away, disappearing down the dim corridor. Once Edward was gone, Manon grabbed one of Lucas' wrists and began yanking him behind him down the hallway, the long sleeve of her scarlet nightgown falling over his hand. "You know, you're lucky it was just me who found you fraternising with a servant boy and not… literally anyone else. Are you an idiot?" Manon was saying, dragging Lucas up a spiral staircase, pouting. 

Once they reached the floor Lucas' room was located, he pulled his wrist free of his sister's grasp, scowling. "What were you doing down there anyway? I thought your quarters were on the other side of the castle?" Lucas stated, avidly avoiding Manon's comments. He was well aware of his stupidity. 

Manon sighed, giving him a pointed look. "They are. Glad you remembered," Manon replied, "I couldn't sleep, so I was going for a walk. Can't say I was expecting to find _that_ waiting for me in the usually abandoned corridor." She gestured vaguely towards the spiral staircase situated behind where they were standing in the middle of the hall. 

"Oh, don't be such a nosy git. It was barely even that interesting," Lucas snapped, crossing his arms over his chest, frown deepening. Manon opened her mouth to reply, but Lucas cut her off. "Now if you'll excuse me, _I'm_ going to bed." And without pause for a reply, Lucas spun on his heels and strode away down the carpeted hallway, not even glancing over his shoulder at Manon standing alone in the middle of the hallway. 

Lucas entered his bedroom chamber in a huff, letting the door slam shut behind him, the noise echoing through the hall. He was muttering to himself about family and 'nosy pricks' as he climbed into his four poster bed, burrowing up to his chin under the heavy blue blankets. His room was deathly silent in the midnight air, not even his pet Pomeranian stirring in her bed. It was almost unsettling. 

As he began to calm down, turned onto his side to look towards the window across from him, Lucas was filled with regret at his conversation with Manon. Lucas was well known throughout both the castle and the kingdom as an irritable and angsty boy, but he hated to be like that with Manon. She was just about the only family member he had that didn't have issues with him. His father never viewed him as good enough and his mother was always ill, paying no attention to him because of her mental health. Manon, however, always gave him attention. 

Of all the people Lucas had problems with in that castle, Manon would never be one of them. 

♤

The next morning dawned far too soon for how late he finally fell asleep. He was half buried under the covers, pillow over his head, when one of the servants threw open the curtains to wake him up. As the bright sunlight burned his eyes, Lucas groaned and burrowed deeper under the covers. "Fuck off," he grumbled, muffled under the fabric. 

"Sir, you have business to attend to. You are meeting with the Jeanson family today. Their daughter, Chloé, could become your wife someday," insisted the familiar voice of Alexia. Lucas groaned again, rolling over onto his back and covering his face with his arm. "Look, I know you have no interest in marriage, but you unfortunately have to," Alexia continued, voice softening. She was another of the few people that treated Lucas like more of a friend than an irritating master. 

"Do I really have to go meet them? Can't I just sleep in for once?" Lucas whined, peeking out from the crook of his elbow.

Alexia rolled her eyes and flicked his leg, making Lucas yelp into a seated position. "Unfortunately, sir, you have to meet with them. Potential future in-laws and all that," she replied, going into his closet to grab him a selection of outfits. 

"Are they that important of a family?" Lucas asked vaguely as Alexia returned with a bundle of fabrics of many colours. "Like are they absolutely critical to avoid a war or whatever?" 

Alexia snorted, putting his clothes at the foot of the bed. "Fuck if I know. I never pay any attention to politics," she replied, standing with her hands on her hips. "Now get dressed into something pretty. Don't want another argument with His Magesty, do you?" Lucas flipped her off, grabbing one of his pillows and tossing it her way. She guffawed, dodging out of the way. The pillow landed with a heavy thud just next to his sleeping dog, Ouba, who startled awake, barking loudly. 

"Sorry, Ouba," Lucas said, resigning himself to getting out of bed and searching through his clothes for a decent yet zero-fucks-given outfit to wear. "You're lucky you're not next in line for a dog throne," Lucas grumbled, pointing at Ouba who was now staring at him from her bed, tail wagging excitedly. 

"Or if only I wasn't next in line for a real throne," he mumbled to himself, looking in the mirror by the window. 

♤

An hour later, Lucas made his way downstairs to the main hall where the rest of his family was. He decided on wearing black dress trousers, a white button down, pale yellow waistcoat and a navy blue tailcoat that swished behind him as he walked. He was greeted outside the doors to the main hall by two of the usual servants who bowed their heads and opened the doors for him. He muttered his thanks and stepped inside. 

The main hall was pretty obsolete in Lucas' opinion. It was just a massive empty room with a few thrones at the end. The cool stone floor had a massive blood red carpet running from the doors all the way to the thrones. It had a high ceiling with stained glass windows on all sides of the top of the ceiling, spilling a rainbow kaleidoscope of luminescence onto the ground and up the walls and depicting romanticized depictions of the history of their family. The back wall of the room had a massive family coat of arms on a huge textile piece, hanging from the ceiling. Besides the carpet and thrones, the room was empty of furnishing or interests.

The rest of Lucas' family was standing waiting for him inside the main hall. Manon, dressed in a long scarlet dress with purple ribbons on her corset, was standing alongside their mother, who was standing next to their father. The king, as usual these days, was already scowling at Lucas, arms crossed and jaw set. Lucas heaved a sigh, walking down the carpet towards the rest of his family. 

"So good of you to _finally_ join us, Lucas," he said just as Lucas reached the end of the carpet and shuffled in beside his sister. "The guests will be here any second and your hair is still standing up everywhere." Lucas opened his mouth to protest, shutting it when his father snapped his fingers sharply to summon one of the attendants to come and fix his hair.

Just as she finished flattening his hair as best as she could, the doors to the hall swung open and a man dressed in bright bottle green robes entered. He cleared his throat before announcing, "Introducing the Jeanson family of Marseille; Earl Claudius, his wife Countess Sofia and their daughter Chloé." 

Chloé was very pretty, Lucas would admit. She had long dark brown hair which cascaded down her back, half pulled back with a braided bun and bright friendly eyes. She was dressed in a ruffled cream dress with pink accents and a matching hat, complimenting her figure nicely. If she was closer to Lucas' type, he could see the appeal in someone like her. 

"What a beautiful name. Chloé," Lucas remarked, testing her name out on his lips. Chloé giggled girlishly, grinning as Lucas took one of her hands and kissed the back of it. He winked as he let go, letting his grasp linger slightly. 

Chloé tucked a loose strand of hair behind one of her ears, blinking flirtatiously. Lucas could vomit. "It's lovely to make your acquaintance, your Royal Highness," she greeted cheerfully.

"I insist it's even lovelier to make yours," he replied smoothly, winking once again. She blushed scarlet, eyes darting to the floor, sheepish smile on her face. _She's way too easy to flirt with_ Lucas thought to himself, forcing a smile at her. 

Lucas glanced at the rest of his family who were all gaping at him, not even bothering to hide their shock at Lucas' reaction. Lucas caught his father's eye who shook himself off, coming to his senses and clearing his throat. He turned to the Earl and Countess, training his face into an amicable smile. "Shall we leave these two to get to know each other? I would love to show you the grounds…" the king said, turning to the Jeansons. 

Manon caught his eye as they exited, arching a single eyebrow and mouthing, "Really?" Lucas couldn't agree more, but knew he had to put on a show.

And then Lucas and Chloé were left alone in the empty main hall. 

"So, what are we doing now?" Chloé asked once the door shut behind the others, eyes wide with curiosity. "We could visit the gardens. I saw them when we came in and they look so pretty!" she suggested cheerfully. 

"Are you up for an adventure?" Lucas asked instead, eyebrows raised. He offered her his arm to link, which she did, smiling sweetly, cheeks rosy.

"What kind of adventure?" she asked, following Lucas out into the entrance hall. Lucas raised his eyebrows teasingly, holding a finger up to his lips and pulling her out through the front doors and out of the castle, crossing the front lawn at a jog. 

"It's a surprise." 

♤

The city centre was only a ten minute walk from the entrance to the castle. Situated at the bottom of a small hill, the town had cobblestone streets which twisted and turned, overlapping unevenly as each individual building was situated. There were market stalls all along the road, selling fruits and vegetables and flowers and anything else from trinkets to pots and pans. Washing lines hung between buildings, dresses and shirts and trousers dangling from above, swaying in the light spring breeze. Children chased after dogs and threw balls, people called to each other from windows and in the road and people tried to sell their goods in the market stalls. It was the kind of chaos Lucas didn't get the privilege of seeing often back at the castle where everything was planned to a T.

"This is wonderful! Do you visit here often?" Chloé was ecstatic, looking around the street with a wide grin on her face, waving to a little girl with blonde pigtails chasing after a ball. 

Lucas shook his head, pulling Chloé along the street by her hand, looking around the beautiful chaos around him. "Not really. They don't let me leave the castle at all, most of the time," Lucas explained somewhat sadly.

Chloé was in the midst of babbling about—well, Lucas didn't really know—as they wandered from side street to side street, when they came upon another market stall. This one was selling thousands of beautiful flowers, all spilling out of their baskets, bright petals catching the eye as bumble bees bobbed around them. Lucas was about to pull Chloé off towards a bakery he knew had good pastries when he glanced up at the florist and felt his heart thud onto the cobblestones. 

He was even more gorgeous than the flowers he sold. 

Lucas paused, staring at the stall from the side street, still holding onto Chloé. The man selling flowers stared right back. He had messy wavy brown hair and sharp cheekbones, gaze intense even from several metres away. He was dressed simply in a collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tartan trousers, sorting a bouquet of Eucharis and Calla lilies into a yellow bow. 

"What is it?" Chloé asked at the sudden stop, almost tripping over her shoes. She followed Lucas' stare over to the flower stand, cheeks flushing. 

"Come along. Let me get you an arrangement," Lucas suggested, pulling Chloé over to the stand by her elbow, heart hammering in his chest cavity. Could other people hear it as he could? 

They stopped just short of the stall, looking over the flowers on show. At least Chloé was. "Good afternoon. Are you looking for anything in particular today?" The man behind the stall asked, looking right at Lucas with the clearest blue eyes Lucas had seen. _You could go swimming in those eyes._

"What about a surprise? What do you think suits her best?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow, staring right back at the man. 

The man's eyes lit up, grin broadening on his face so much his eyes crinkled. "That sounds wonderful," he replied, turning to look at Chloé for the first time. She looked back and forth between the two boys, blinking rapidly, eyelashes fluttering. The man narrowed his eyes, furrowed his brows and stared Chloé down, seeming to really think about his choice. After a moment, he seemed to have made up his mind, plucking various flowers out of the baskets to sort into a small bouquet. 

After another few minutes, he held up an arrangement of lavender, magnolias and a few red geraniums. Lucas glanced at the various flowers, barely able to stifle a snort as the man handed over the flowers, tied neatly with a turquoise ribbon. He caught the man's eye and unless Lucas was very much mistaken, the florist smirked. 

"How much?" Lucas asked, peeling his gaze away from the florist finally to watch Chloé sniffing the flowers contentedly. 

"For the beautiful magnolia girl? Free of charge," the man replied. As soon as Chloé was looking down, the man caught Lucas' eye and winked. 

Lucas sputtered slightly, cheeks flushing and eyes widening. He glanced at Chloé, looking stunned and bashful and cleared his throat. "That's very generous of you, sir! But I insist I can afford it." Lucas pulled his wallet out of his coat pocket, rifling through the change.

The man sighed. "Fine. That'll be 5 francs, please, sir," the man replied, somewhat resentful as he held out his hand to collect the change from Lucas. Their hands brushed as he handed over 10 francs, insisting he kept the change. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

"You too!" Chloé chimed, yanking excitedly on Lucas' arm. 

"Thank you, sir," Lucas called over his shoulder. He dared a wink at the gentleman, priding himself when his cheeks turned a faint pink and his gaze fell back to his flowers, a smile peeking from his lips. 

"He was nice," Chloé said after a few moments of silence, walking along the street and periodically sniffing the flower arrangement. 

Lucas nodded distractedly, still thinking back to the way the man smiled. "Yeah. Yeah he was…" he replied quietly, glancing over his shoulder one last time to find the man watching them go. 

He would have to come back to the village more often. 


	2. ii.

Lucas sighed, putting his book down on his knees and turning to look out the window and onto the grounds. The massive garden was alive with colour, the lawn a vibrant green, flowers of every kind covering the hedges and trees and bushes. Roses and marigolds and lilies and carnations, perfectly trimmed and watered.

That day, it was a particularly clear afternoon, only a few pale white clouds bobbing along the pale blue June sky. Lucas could see one of the gardeners out with his clippers, trimming the hedges neatly. 

Lucas looked along the corridor for any signs of life, tilting his head back against the window frame, tucking his knees in closer on the bay window. He could barely get a second of peace anymore now that he was technically dating Chloé. Although it was hardly dating since it was _arranged_ and he couldn't stand the girl. The more he got to know her, the more he realised she was physically incapable of not talking, always going on and on about complete nonsense. She talked his ear off at dinner about annoying servants, complained in the garden about friends back home, babbled in the library about her new clothes she was sent. 

Opening his book once again, Lucas pushed all thoughts about Chloé out of his mind and continued to read his book. 

He was almost onto the next chapter, starting to get into the scene, when he heard quick footsteps behind him, followed by someone grabbing his shoulders. Lucas startled, dropping his book onto the floor with a thud and spinning around so fast his neck clicked. When he came face to face with none other than Yann, his startled frown melted into a grin. "You gave me a fucking heart attack, Yann!" he whined, shoving his friend and getting off the window sill.

Yann snorted, shoving his shoulder back. "Don't be such a drama queen—sorry, _prince_. It's not my fault you're jumpier than a kitten," Yann replied, smirking and jumping out of the way of Lucas' swat. "Oho, that's not very nice, is it? I know I'm just a servant, but surely you don't have to be so cruel!" Yann mocked defense, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. 

"Can I help you, Yann?" Lucas asked, crossing his own arms. 

Yann shrugged casually, plopping onto the windowsill with his back against the window. "Shouldn't I be asking _you_ that, your Royal Highness?" Yann teased. He digressed, straightening up. "But really, no. Mum let me go for a wander and I was bored so I came to exactly where I knew you'd be." 

"How'd you know I'd be here? No one else knows about this area," Lucas asked, furrowing his eyebrows together, "No one ever comes here because it's not even near any staff quarters." 

"Oh, Lulu, you underestimate me," Yann replied, "Of course I know where you hide from your little girlfriend. You're far too predictable, really." Lucas rolled his eyes. "A distant, mostly deserted corner of the castle which is relatively close to the library and has a good enough view of the gardens? Hmm, I wonder how I figured out you'd be here…" 

Lucas leaned against the wall by the window and slid down to the floor with his back against the wall. "Okay, so maybe I am a little predictable," Lucas admitted. He lifted his fallen book and flattened out its pages, closing it properly and setting it down by his side. "But can you blame me for hiding? That girl never stops. I needed a break before dinner later on." 

"How on earth would I ever manage to talk to her, Lucas?" Yann deadpanned, staring at Lucas, "I'm just the butler's son and she's a noble who is soon-to-most-likely-be-engaged to the heir to the throne." 

Lucas groaned, shut his eyes and hit his head against the wall. "Fuck. Sorry," he muttered, "I don't use my head at all."

Yann poked his nose with his finger. "No, you don't," Yann said, "But it's okay. I forgive you." 

They fell into amicable silence, Yann watching the gardener water the plats while Lucas fiddled with the pages of his book, legs outstretched in front of him. If he really strained, Lucas could just about hear the chirping of birds outside the window. 

"Do you really think I'm going to have to be engaged to Chloé?" Lucas asked after they had been sitting in silence for almost 20 minutes. He looked over his shoulder, making Yann turn his head from the window down to him. 

Yann sighed, placing a comforting hand on one of Lucas' shoulders. "I hate to break it to you, but yes," Yann admitted sadly, "Most likely. She's from a noble family that has pretty much always backed your family and she's been basically living here since late April. And you're of marrying age. I think it's safe to say you'll be engaged at least by the end of summer."

Lucas groaned, falling onto his side on the itchy carpet, burying his face in his hands. "But I don't want to marry her," Lucas whined, distorted by his hands, "She's annoying and talks too much and I'm not even 21 yet. I don't wanna marry anybody yet." Yann climbed off the bay window and settled down beside Lucas, forcing him to sit up. "I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes I really hate being the prince." Lucas rested his head on Yann's shoulder, scowling. 

Yann reached up and patted his head. "I know, Lucas," he said, "I'm sorry." Lucas frowned deeper, glancing sideways. 

"Sorry? What for?" 

"Even though you're a royal and have all these privileges, at least I have more choices in life than you." 

♤

Dinner that evening was a disaster. Lucas' father called him out for hiding from Chloé all day because she asked multiple people where he was (including the king!). This turned into his father yelling about duty and chivalry and honour and how Lucas would never be a good enough king. Chloé cried, his mother left the dining hall shaking, his father accidentally broke a plate slamming his hand on it in anger and Lucas stormed out of the dining hall with his hands curled into tight fists. 

Lucas burst into the hallway, pacing the floor and breathing heavily, tightening and loosening his fists. The doors to the dining hall swung open again and Manon hurried out, holding up her scarlet dress, hair a mess. Lucas was hunched, leaned against the wall, eyes burning with hot tears as he tried to keep himself from punching the wall out of anger. 

"Lucas? Lucas, are you okay?" she asked, striding over to him. She held his fists in both her hands, uncurling his fingers to reveal red rimmed crescents indenting his palms. "He's wrong, Lucas. None of that is true. You'll be a far better king than he ever has been, okay? You have more chivalry and honour in your big toe than he does in his entire body." She wiped the tears from his cheeks, smiling sadly. 

"But what if he's not wrong? What if, when I become king, I ruin everything?" Lucas cried, sniffling. "And I'm hardly ready to marry anyone nevermind _her._ " 

"Maybe if you tell mother—"

Lucas cut her off and shoved her away. "No! I'm never going to be satisfied with my spouse and you know it," Lucas snapped, "I'll never be happy enough with who I marry and our parents won't ever care." Manon started to reply, but Lucas was already marching out of the hallway, heels clicking on the stone floor. 

"Lucas, where are you going?" Manon called after him, hands on her hips and worried frown on her face. 

"Out! Anywhere is better than here!" he called over his shoulder, storming down a flight of stairs. He heard Manon's heels following him down the stairs frantically, hair flowing behind her and skirt bunched into her fists. "You're not stopping me, Manon." 

"Come on, Lucas. Don't do this. You can't just leave the castle." 

Lucas stopped and spun around, fresh tears in his eyes, making Manon blur in his vision. "I'm just going for a walk, okay? I'll be back later." And before Manon could protest further, Lucas spun back around and stormed out the front doors once again. 

♤

It was sunset by the time Lucas reached the middle of the city. He was mostly calm now, walking through the winding streets. The evening air was cool against his skin, having neglected wearing a coat, which left him in his simple white button down. All the market stalls were shut for the night as well, only a few shops and restaurants still open. The streets were almost deserted and Lucas only passed a handful of people, thankfully. He was considering turning back, shivering with cold, when he stumbled upon a small florists still open, warm light flooding onto the dim street.

Lucas pulled his sleeves over his hands and stepped inside the shop. He was instantly overwhelmed by the strong floral scent filling the air, along with the pleasant heat coming from a small fireplace in the corner. Lucas glanced around the entire store, brushing his fingers over the soft petals and leaves, occasionally leaning down to smell one. 

"Hello," a voice said in his ear. Lucas lept to the side, whipping his head up, eyes wide. He found himself barely an inch away from the same florist from the market stall pess than a month ago. 

"Fuck, you scared me!" Lucas exclaimed, clutching his chest.

The man chuckled, eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to!" he replied, still laughing, "I was just coming to see if my customer needed anything. Looks like I found my favourite one." 

Lucas flushed, distracting himself by fidgeting with the stem of a gloxinia. 

"It's been a while. I was starting to think you were a dream," the man continued, "Or at least that you weren't coming back." The man was standing so close to Lucas he could feel his breath on the side of his face and neck. It sent a chill down his spine. 

"Yeah, I've been, uh, busy," Lucas replied sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "And I live just outside of the city, so it's hard to come here often, I guess." 

"What a shame," the man said. "Where's your companion from last time? The magnolia girl."

Lucas snorted at the memory. "She's back home. I came here myself." 

The man nodded and clapped his hands together once. "Right. Well, can I do anything for you today?" he asked, stepping away finally to gesture towards the flowers surrounding them. "I'm Eliott, by the way. I don't believe I introduced myself last time. Silly me." He held out his hand in front of Lucas. 

Lucas shook his hand, lingering for far too long to be considered normal. "Lu—Louis." 

Eliott smirked, a knowing glint in his eye. _He's onto me._ "Well, _Louis_ , what can I do for you? Another arrangement for a special someone?" Eliott asked with a teasing lilt to his voice. He gestured around the shop again. "I can do loads of different bouquets for all occasions." 

Lucas stepped past Eliott further into the shop, looking around the room at the seemingly endless array of flowers filling the room. They were set in baskets and vases and paper bags on the wall, overlapping endlessly in a rainbow of petals and leaves and ribbons. Lucas made his way all the way to the back of the shop where he found a bunch of parchment stuck to the wall, adorned with what looked like pressed azaleas and peonies. 

"They're my favourite flowers," Eliott said, appearing by Lucas' side, "They symbolise my soul. Like spirit flowers or something." 

Lucas walked ever closer to the wall, lightly touching one of the azalea petals. "So like floriography?" Lucas asked casually, glancing sideways at Eliott. Eliott's smile softened, looking down at Lucas through his lashes. 

He nodded. "Yeah. Exactly like that."

"So." Lucas turned his entire body towards Eliott, who mirrored him. "What flowers am I? What's my soul flower?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly, suggestively. 

A sharp intake of breath. A grin. A pause. Eliott looked Lucas up and down thoughtfully, tilting his head to the side. The silence in the air hung heavy and charged, but no less comfortable. "I don't know. I'll think about it," Eliott said after a moment. "Maybe come back and I'll have one in mind." 

"Okay then…" Lucas turned around, circling the store once again. "Will you make me an arrangement at least? Any that you like. Any occasion you can think of," he said, walking backwards, grinning. Eliott followed him, eyes full of mirth. 

"Now _that_ I can do." And then Eliott was hurrying around the small shop, knocking down baskets and grabbing flowers here and there seemingly haphazardly. Lucas hopped up onto the cash desk, swinging his legs back and forth as he watched Eliott hurtling around the room collecting the flowers for the bouquet. It was the most fun Lucas had had in weeks, watching Eliott stumble and scatter around, a man on a mission, barely pausing for breath. 

After five minutes, Eliott came over to the table with a bundle of flowers, laying them down and searching through the stack of ribbons. He pulled out a baby blue one and went to work arranging the flower assortment into the way he liked. Lucas watched with interest, giggling when Eliott dropped flowers or struggled over tying the neat bow to perfection. Finally, after making sure the bouquet was satisfactory, Eliott presented the bouquet with a flick of the wrist, holding it up for Lucas to take. 

Lucas gasped as he looked over the arrangement. It was made with gloxinias, yellow tulips, white carnations and a few sprigs of heathers, all bunched together perfectly tied with the baby blue ribbon. _Love at first sight, loveliness, admiration_ , Lucas thought to himself. The mixture of flowers smelled divine. Lucas glanced back up at Eliott, cheeks burning, and smiled flirtatiously. Eliott watched Lucas inspecting the floral arrangement, smirking, eyes glinting hopefully. Lucas took another whiff of the bouquet, eyes closing with contentment. 

He looked back at Eliott and raised his eyebrows. "This is quite the selection of flowers you chose," Lucas said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. 

"Well I thought they would suit you, now," Eliott replied simply, "I'm glad you like it." He stepped forwards, closing the majority of the gap between them. He was only a few inches away, warm breath hitting Lucas' face with mint and coffee. Lucas sucked in a breath, eyes wide as he peered up at the taller man with awe and something he thought was attraction. Lucas could have sworn he saw a similar look in Eliott's bright eyes that stared straight into his soul. 

"How much is the bouquet?" Lucas asked, taking a step back and clearing his throat. 

Eliott blinked, stepping back as well, face falling briefly before returning to a polite smile. Lucas' heart fell with it. "You can have it for free," Eliott said, "Take it as a gift from me." 

"Are you sure? I assure you I can afford it—"

Eliott nodded. "I insist. Your sweetheart must get gifts like these often. Perhaps you should get something for a change." Eliott pushed the bouquet closer to Lucas' chest, still forcing a polite smile. Lucas caught Eliott's wrist, staring at him.

"Thank you, Eliott." 

Eliott gulped. He glanced at Lucas' grasp on his wrist and back at Lucas, eyes wide. "I'm serious. No one's ever done something like this for me. So, thank you," Lucas repeated, deadly serious. His heart was racing with the intensity in the air between them, eyes burning from staring at Eliott so long.

"Well, I'm glad I can be the one to do it for you," Eliott replied, finally breaking their eye contact, glancing at the bouquet. "You deserve—" 

"Eliott? Are you ready to go?"

Lucas ripped his hand off of Eliott's wrist, jumping back and nearly tossing his flowers behind him. Both men turned towards the door to the shop where a young woman was standing looking at them curiously. She glanced at Lucas and he turned away, avoiding her eyes. 

Eliott peered at Lucas and back at the woman. He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck. "Lucille. I apologise, but I was just speaking with this customer and, er, got a bit distracted," Eliott replied, moving towards the back of the shop and disappearing behind the desk. Lucas watched the exchange with his heart at his knees, face scarlet. 

Lucas took a deep breath, straightening his trousers and pushing past the woman–Lucille and into the street. "Thanks for the flowers, sir," he said over his shoulder, ignoring the woman and looking at Eliott behind her. "The recipient will love them, I'm sure," he added cryptically, smiling politely. Lucas turned fully away and began his trek back down the street, sighing. 

"I'll see you again soon, _sir."_ Lucas stopped walking. He turned back around and found Eliott standing outside of the shop, hands in his pockets. Lucille was unlocking the door to the shop, back turned to them. "Please." Lucille finished, turning to face Eliott and Lucas. 

Lucas nodded stiffly, gesturing with the flowers. "If you can find my soul flower, I'll certainly be back for more of these arrangements," he replied. Before Eliott even had the chance to react or reply, Lucas was already hurrying away down the street. He looked down at the bouquet once again and couldn't help but smile despite the discomfort caused by the girl interrupting them. 

Maybe he would be coming back to the city more often.


End file.
